


Muted Passion

by ForbiddenArchive



Category: THE iDOLM@STER
Genre: Brainwashing, F/F, Mime TF, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 19:27:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21433468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForbiddenArchive/pseuds/ForbiddenArchive
Summary: Riamu's feeling down after a performance with Kirari, and after the tall girl makes her cheer up, prep for the next performance leaves them both speechless.
Relationships: Yumemi Riamu/Moroboshi Kirari
Kudos: 4





	Muted Passion

**Author's Note:**

> Birthday gift for Mime-Control on DA.

"Haaaaaah... I'm not sure they liked that last act..."  
  
A long sigh left the pink-haired downer's lips as she collapsed onto one of the chairs within the break room, her eyes cast in shadow by her own lack of confidence. Such a lack that even prevented her from reacting to the comforting hand that grasped her shoulder.  
  
"Oh, Riamu-chan, I'm certain they loved it! Sure, you stumbled a little back and forth, and flubbed a line here and there, but it wasn't all bad! They wouldn't have cheered for us if they didn't enjoy your performance!" The supportive girl, Moroboshi Kirari, smiled as she kneeled down a little so she wouldn't tower over the smaller girl.  
  
The dejected girl, Yumemi Riamu, laughed a little dejectedly. "Easy for you to say, Kirari-chan. You were clearly the one they were all cheering for. Not a... y'know..." She shot back as she quickly fell back into one of her depressive slumps, a common event ever since she started acting as an idol.  
  
And an event that never lasted for too long, as she suddenly felt the larger girl wrap her arms around her waist before pulling her up into a huge hug, lifting her into the air in the process. "O-Oi!" Her mood immediately changed from worry to panic as she kicked her legs around, while the much taller sandy-blonde laughed in response.  
  
"That's better, no more of that sad stuff! They loved seeing you on stage, Riamu-chan, you gotta accept it!" Positivity radiated off every single word that left Kirari's mouth, as she finally let her friend down after she was sure that she had squeezed enough love and support into her. "You get it now? I'm not the only one that wants to see you smile, the rest of the world does! So, you don't need to worry as much about how you perform on stage, just do what you think is right!"  
  
Riamu looked at her taller friend's beaming smile, only to sigh and finally smile back in return. "You're so persistent, Kirari-chan. I can't keep up with you if you keep being like this." She kept downplaying her own efforts before she gave the taller girl a return hug. "Thanks. Thanks a lot. Just, don't pull me up like that again, I think I might fall apart or something if you do."  
  
"No promises!" The taller girl laughed as she planted a little supporting kiss on her fellow idol's head, prompting the two of them to giggle like a pair of giddy schoolgirls...  
  
As the two of them calmed down, a buzz echoed over the intercom in the room. "Moroboshi, Yumemi. You're both on in ten minutes. Please prepare your outfits and the special makeup necessary for this act. I repeat, Moroboshi and Yumemi..." The voice announced as they looked to one another with a puzzled look on their faces.  
  
"Special makeup? I don't remember practicing for anything that required special makeup..." Riamu said as she let go of her friend, looking around the breakroom for the necessary supplies. Supplies that she just couldn't find, as she didn't know what she was looking for.  
  
Kirari, on the other hand, was much more prepared, as she put a hand on the smaller girl's shoulder once again, smiling. "I think Anzu-chan told me a little about this. She said something about the new act that P-San had cooked up, something involving the french 'Mime' fashion?" The taller girl explained as she stepped towards the mirrors that decorated the room, only to open the cupboards underneath to reveal a deceptively small metal can. "But, she also said that she didn't feel right while she was performing either, so..."  
  
That last bit made a little shiver run up the pink-haired girl's spine as she came closer. "Didn't feel right? Like, feel uncomfortable and weak and bad on stage, or are we talking something completely unnatural?" Her words dripped with a subtext that was easy to pick out, as her body shivered with every word while her mind started to drift off...  
  
"No no, not like the weird delusions you have when you're worried on stage! Like, she didn't feel like she was actually being herself. Worst of all, she told me that she felt like her voice was missing entirely, and yet the crowd was silently captivated by her performance! Not to mention, she did feel a little less lazy and a lot weirder after that act..." The taller girl explained further while hugging her shorter friend with one arm, as she planted the small can on the mirrored desk in front of them both. "Still, this is kinda weird, isn't it? When does makeup come in a can?"  
  
Riamu narrowed her eyes as her friend called her rightful stage fright delusions, but she did think the can was a little more than just weird. Especially with the way she described Anzu's abnormal behavior during the act. "Hey, Kirari-chan? Why do we have to do an act that we haven't even practiced for?" The pink-haired girl asked a valid question as she backed away from the can just to make sure that she would be safe.  
  
This caused Kirari to blink and quietly contemplate, her eyebrows furrowing as she really used her brain for all its possible thinking power... only for steam to run out her ears as she started to giggle hopelessly. "Iiiii... dunno. Like, it's P-San that wants us to do it, and we won't get to be great idols if we don't do it?" She answered with a bright smile, prompting a little droplet of sweat to run down her friend's forehead... while the can on the desk slowly but surely started to rumble and tremble around on the flat surface.  
  
"That kind of narrowminded loyalty to being an idol is going to get you somewhere awful later in life, Kirari-chan..." The cynically minded girl muttered as she noticed the rumbling can, making her eyes widen in response. "H-hold on, you should probably get back. It looks like whatever's in that can's trying to get out..."  
  
"Get out?" The taller girl asked as she turned to look at the can, only it was too late.  
  
In that very split second, the lid on the can broke open and a long stream of black and white pain rushed into the air as if guided by some sort of magic. The very next moment, all of it fell down on Kirari, consuming her in a flurry of monochrome colors that splattered all over the floor while every single unremarkable color managed to soak into her form, thoroughly throwing off her color scheme in the process.  
  
"K-Kirari!" Riamu shouted as she quickly darted away from the proverbial blast zone, watching with a fearful eye as the supportive girl was given a shockingly quick makeover, courtesy of some sort of magical paint. Why would there be paint in a makeup can!? Was it even a makeup can?! WHAT WAS GOING ON!? Questions like those rushed through the panicking girl's mind as she watched carefully...  
  
By the time the stream of white and black paint finished a puddle that was about as large as a sofa had gathered at the tall idol's feet. In turn, the lack of paint rushing down let the pink-haired and still colorful girl get a much better look at her repainted friend.  
  
From top to bottom, Kirari's colors had practically been washed out. Her hair, formerly nice and sandy blonde, was now a shade of pure black. Her face, by contrast, was nearly chalk-white, except for her black lips and the hint of eyeliner around her eyes. Her clothes had been given the exact same treatment, with interchanging white and black stripes covering each article of clothing all the way down to her pants and shoes which were equally black to match her hair.  
  
"G-Geez, what... w..?" The tall girl started speaking again, if only for a moment as she suddenly felt as if her mouth couldn't budge. It was as if her lips had been reduced to a decoration on her face, and the wild way she swung her arms around trying to pry them apart just added to the absurdity and the peculiarity of the scene at hand.  
  
A scene that Riamu was forced to observe as she took a seat upon the table, shuffling further away in the process. Her friend had been turned completely monochrome, and to make matters that much worse, she was completely silenced. Just like... just like that french mime craze that Anzu had warned her friend about! How were they going to perform on stage if they were going to be forced to look like near identical monochrome girls, who couldn't even stand apart with their voices?  
  
While an onlooker, completely unaware of the events that led up to this, would no doubt be amused at the way Kirari was swinging her arms around like a maniac, nobody was going to be amused at the way she suddenly snapped to her attention, arms pinned to her side and her eyes suddenly widened. As it turned out, the outside of her body wasn't the only thing that had been given a makeover by the paint, as she felt her mind suddenly filling up with static. As if she was forced to mentally imagine a static-broadcasting screen, filling the entirety of her head with nothing but the sound and sight of the flickering blacks and whites...  
  
The sight of her friend going stiff filled the worried idol with even more fear as she whimpered a soft "K-Kirari-chan..?" as she carefully tried to approach the taller mime-like girl, hoping that the stiffness wasn't too bad...  
  
A fatal error to commit as the monochrome girl stared straight at Riamu with some sort of malicious intent in her dull and color-deprived eyes. She didn't speak a single word as she stepped closer, with a single finger pressed up against her lips in a hushing motion. Even as the pink-haired girl tried to back away, she just sped up her steps until she got close enough.  
  
"K-Kirari-chan! Please! Don't do this!" The hopeless girl screamed as she suddenly felt a pair of long arms clamp around her waist like a vice, as she threw around her weight in an attempt to pry herself free. A futile effort that just caused her to be pressed further up against the tall mime's body, the still-wet paint slowly rubbing off on her body and causing that very same static to flood her head... "W-What's... so... so loud..."  
  
As the colorful girl slowly started growing quieter as her mind filled with overwhelmingly noisy static, the larger mime retrieved the can where all of the monochromatic paint had squeezed inside. She held the metallic container straight above the resisting girl, as dollops upon dollops slowly made their way out of the deceptively tiny prison, running down her form as her color was overwritten by wonderful blacks and whites...  
  
"S-Sto... Kir..." Riamu tried to cry out, but she found her lips unwilling to move as the paint continued to run down her form. Her thoughts as numerous as they were, quickly fell prey to the endless static. Her face grew paler, her pink hair grew darker, and her outfit in its entirety was quickly given the same colorless makeover like the rest of her. All of the joy, worry and overall emotional impact of her original color scheme was quickly snuffed out by the paint as it collected at her feet...  
  
Finally, as the tall mime discarded the can, the smaller girl's change had been completed. Static had completely consumed her mind, as her skin had turned completely pale. The only thing that made her stand out in comparison to Kirari, outside of their heights, was the eyeshadow around her eyes forming a cross pattern instead of a line pattern like the taller girl.   
  
Both girls, now subservient to the near-incomprehensible noise inside of their heads, stripped bare to admire their chalk-white bodies and the blackened sensitive areas. A brief sight that quickly got covered up by their new mime attire, consisting of a pair of unremarkable black pants, equally simple black shoes, and a white-and-black striped shirt that seamlessly connected to the waistband of their pants.  
  
Their looks had been completed. Their minds molded to fit their new roles. Individuality snuffed out, as they looked into each others' dull eyes. They were ready for their act, even if they could not sing along. They did not worry, as they would prove their worth as mimes to an audience wholly prepared for them.  
  
An audience that needed to be shown how nice it felt to be thoughtless and expressionless mimes. Like these two wonderful friends...


End file.
